


bottled up

by Kerosenecoffee



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Frustration, Unwanted erections, it’s jeeves/wooster technically but not really, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 10:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerosenecoffee/pseuds/Kerosenecoffee
Summary: There were a few select times that Bertie wished he was alone.





	bottled up

**Author's Note:**

> it’s literally midnight and i’m writing about fucking hugh laurie wanking what has my life come to.

Life was often a calamity for Bertram Wooster. At least once a week he found himself in another sticky situation; that being an engagement he needed to get out of or an engagement he needed to get someone into, he could always count on his trusty valet to save him. 

Jeeves was quite possibly the most astounding and efficient man Wooster had ever had the pleasure of encountering. He could make breakfast, clean the kitchen and decide his masters clothing selection before Bertie could even finish his morning tea. 

Bertie wouldn’t be lying if he said he had grown dependant on his valet. Very dependent in fact, so much so that he doubted he could survive without Jeeves at his side, accompanying him throughout his chaotic life. Without his manservant, Bertie truly believed that his daily life would collapse in on itself as he couldn’t even perform basic tasks like cooking or making tea. 

Yes, Bertram Wooster had grown rather fond of Jeeves and God only knows what would happen if he left him for any reason. Despite this there were a few select times where Bertie often wished that he was alone. For instance; when Jeeves subtly insulted his favourite articles of clothing just by raising a brow or when he is embarrassingly unfortunate and the valet can only give a smug look. 

The last reason was a rather intimate one that Bertie would rather not admit, but was entirely true. A man of his age and prowess has certain wants and needs, which can’t be achieved with optimum satisfaction when there’s a guardian accompanying you at all times. To put it bluntly: Bertram Wooster rarely had the opportunity to reach a sexual climax. 

Not only would it feel incredibly wrong to go at himself whilst his presumably all seeing valet sat right next door but surely there would be some noises that would raise alarm. No, it was far too risky and inappropriate to even consider. Oh, but how it left him feeling like a pimple ridden teenager, who would get a little hot under the collar looking at anything remotely sexual.

And hot under the collar Bertie got. It was embarrassing how often he would find himself letting an impure thought entertain his mind and having to promptly squeeze his legs together on a bar stool and shift uncomfortably, smiling at the men at the drones club through gritted teeth. Quite the rummy situation. 

This denial of a man’s primal instinct had led to some very unfortunate circumstances in the mornings. At the crack of dawn, Bertie would often find himself awoken by streaks of sun cracking through the curtains, birds tweeting from a nearby tree, and a disgusting wet spot in his pyjama bottoms. How utterly mortifying it would have been if Jeeves were to walk in with his morning breakfast at that point! Perhaps he had already seen Bertie’s state, as it were, and left him so that he wouldn’t be embarrassed? That notion plagued Wooster’s mind all day and night. 

Never mind that, Bertie quickly changed and made himself look less disheveled from his unconscious orgasm, ducking under the sheets so that it looked like he had never left. The trousers were carefully disposed of. 

Without too much wait, Jeeves entered with a tray of breakfast; 2 eggs, 1 slice of toast and a rasher of bacon. Maybe this was his second time in the room this morning. 

“Ah, thank you, Jeeves,” Wooster said heartily, pushing himself into an up-right position. 

The rest of the day went on as usual, even though Bertie’s mind may have been swarmed with lustful imaginings from the night before. 

He idly wondered whether Jeeves felt the same way, and presumably it would be a lot tougher on him. Not having anytime for himself and rarely showing emotions must make his pent up state hard to live with. Bertie wasn’t even certain Jeeves slept most nights, let alone masturbate. 

The image of his valet lying on his bed, desperately trying to wank his way to orgasm, without making too much noise was terribly erotic.

He pushed the thought out of his mind quickly as to not become aroused in the living room, for God’s sake, and lit a cigarette to occupy his time and wondering thoughts. 

Jeeves was only across the room collecting a stray glass. Imagine if he knew that Bertie had previously been picturing him touching himself. 

The cigarette reached his lips again and he took a drag without really thinking about it, his imaginings still lewd. 

“Sir?” the word made him jump. Had Jeeves been talking this whole time? 

“Oh sorry, what was that, old sport?” 

“I said; don’t forget you agreed to see Miss Glossop later today, sir.” 

“Thank you for reminding me, Jeeves, it had completely slipped my mind,” Bertie responded rather shakily, as though he had just been caught red handed. 

“Very good, sir,” the valet managed before taking the glass into the kitchen. 

That night was like awfully annoying. Rather degrading, actually. Bertie lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling trying to will away his semi-erect cock. Those pesky images of Jeeves had made a reappearance and were torturing him. 

The black chest hair adorned with sweat, heaving along with the deep breaths he was taking. His face contorted in a very un-Jeevsian fashion; lip biting, furrowing of brows, mouth hanging open. Most importantly, his large cock stood at full attention, red and angry, begging for the hand movements he was so greedily allowing himself. 

“Oh alright then,” Bertie whispered to himself in defeat. He slowly and quietly searched his surroundings for a handkerchief. He spat into his palm and then put said hand into his pants. 

He began stroking at a moderate pace, but after over a month of not doing it, he got frustrated and tightened his grip. His hand was then hitting his mattress in such an obvious way, that if Jeeves wasn’t asleep he would surely know what was occurring. Wooster stared up into the ceiling in half awake way, just focusing on the pleasure coursing through his cock, pleasure that made his legs twitch and eyes roll back. He longed for his release to approach already, it had been a long day and he just wanted to sleep. 

Tightening his grip and quickening the pace proved effective, as his orgasm came upon him suddenly and, before he knew it, he was coming into the handkerchief, eyes rolled back, hips and thighs twitching, and mouth open to let a long breath out. 

Bertie knew he would have to dispose of it in the morning, but also knew that Jeeves had been keen to burn his whole set of handkerchiefs, so no real loss was bought upon the Wooster household that night.

**Author's Note:**

> i reread this once oops i’m actually ashamed


End file.
